Seasons

 

Even the autumn made sounds then

When the leaves rustled and fell down

When the bewildering wind stirred up their embers

Not letting them lay in peace,

            even as they died…

Like the vase that shattered in the silent hall

And the sound of the falling flowers

They shook and they stormed and noisily 

           they merged into dust.

——

How ignoble of beautiful autumn,

To shut out the summer so…

The one who made all so warm

Turning leaves into nets of gold,

Towards hastily shoved memories

In books on giggling lakeside picnics.

—–

It’s the spring who brings quietitude home,

With its silent splendour,

That walks even ghosts of memories, 

           on feathers of silk

Ever-turning colors‘n ever-changing moods,

But a persistent rhythm, that never lost sync,

A balming regular harmony

So deep to reach…

In my heart, as it trickles peace.

Like every teardrop

Softening my hardened heart

—–

And as spring shall flow away,

Into summer birds yonder one day…

As winter looks to set in,

Some of you shall still remain

As frozen spring flowers,

Soaked in warm water,

Still smelling of the good ol’ spring chime,

One wintry late night

As I will be all alone in my chalet,

As the snow falls outside in a white spread,

Sifting thru’ the memories as you make your way,

Across 6000 miles…

‘n all our lives,

will melt away to the fragrance of candles…

and a crackling pyre,

that’ll warm someone’s passionate night…

of love losing sight

into those who make it…

drifting softly towards a new season

            …of Life.